


The Forgotten Ones

by blackgrl71



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Supernatural, The Hollows - Kim Harrison
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-01
Updated: 2013-08-03
Packaged: 2017-12-22 01:42:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/907403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackgrl71/pseuds/blackgrl71
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Willow finds out that not only does she have two otherworldly “mommies” but that she’s the daughter of an Angel and a Demon, but while reeling from this shocking and momentous revelation, she’s transported into The Hollows’ world. She’ll begin learning more about her true heritage and an attempt to build a brand-new identity separate from the one she’d spent years cultivating, as well as a new love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_A Meeting_

Willow ignored the urgent shouts from her friends and rushed down the corridor towards her room. She momentarily paused to whisper a spell, immediately teleporting herself to her rooms, leaving her well-intentioned friends and family behind. With her arms wrapped tightly around her torso, she sank down onto her bed, finally allowing the shock to ebb and the hysterical-sobbing-laughter to engulf her.

She’d been aware that her upbringing was unusual, bereft of the usual care and acknowledgement from the Rosenbergs seemed uncaring at best, while being irresponsibly dismissive the least. Willow had come to terms with that a long time ago; she’d forged her own identity, created a pretty unique life for herself, in spite of Ira and Sheila’s lack of… well almost anything that seemed parental. Finding out that she’d been adopted, that the life she’d been born into was false, shouldn’t have been a shock. But finding out that your origins were…otherworldly in nature, was more than she could handle.

Wanting love and acceptance from her parents had been a deep-hidden desire; one that she’d never gave voice to, not even to her BFFs - Buffy or Xander, or her lovers Tara and Kennedy. The gaping hole she continued to feel was compartamentalized, locked away deep inside, only ‘allowed’ out at certain times during the year, like during the Holidays. Or random moments when she least expected it, like wishing they’d been around to console her when Tara died.

Instead she went along with her very unusual life, harnessing her unique and powerful gifts, until she became one of the most powerful witches in the world. She was considered the New Council’s “big-gun,” coupled with a brilliant mind that had multiple think tanks, universities, institutes, corporations, even governments vying for her attention. She was also instrumental in re-building and managing the New Council into a premiere international security and supernatural institution. Granted her love life could use a little work, given her last relationship recently took its ‘swan dive’ due to “irreconcilable differences.” When it was really about Willow and Kennedy simply losing interest in keeping what they had—comfortable friends who occasionally had sex. 

Sometimes Willow wished could disappear somewhere, into a different world. Of course, she’d never say the ‘w-word’ out loud for fear D’Hoffryn or one of his cronies was nearby – he’d been trying to get Willow for years. Little did she know was that D’Hoffryn was in a meeting with some very powerful players discussing Willow and her near future; one that included a new change of scenery.

The red-head female, or what appeared to be a human woman paced back and forth, her fists clenching in frustration. These… irritating human emotions were inhibiting her ability to make clear and concise decisions. Another being, sat calmly, the seething cauldron of emotions bubbling underneath her skin wasn’t apparent as she stared out at the other occupants of the chamber. Both the red-head and she had recently learned that their off-spring had been banished to another world, that she’d almost died, that she knew nothing of her real heritage, that she knew nothing of them. Meanwhile D’Hoffryn could barely contain his excitement, he was about to be handed his biggest case, one not to be left up to his many underlings: Willow Rosenberg.

Unfortunately he’d be following orders for this case. Willow Rosenberg had piqued the interest of some very powerful otherworldly players. The most notable was a very high-ranking demon named Newt, along with he thought with an internal shudder of disgust, **_Angels_**. The red-headed angel named Anna, short for the Anafiel was a lithe, hazel-eyed female, accompanied, by other suit-wearing angels, and another mocha-skinned female, who was none other than Raphael. In addition, the Wolf, the Ram, and the Hart, were attending this little meeting. Who knew the Red Witch had such an impressive lineage – had he known, he’d have found a way to exploit it long ago. The Ever-After consisted of several planes, accompanied by varying otherworldly species, mostly demons. There were also varying levels of demon hierarchy; apparently Newt comes from Lilith’s’ lineage, making her demon royalty. While upon pain of death would he ever admit it, she secretly made him nervous. Her Power, plus that stain of insanity flitting across her completely onyx eyes, made him want to squirm.

He once again looked into the scurrying orb of the Red-Witch innocently sleeping, unaware that her life was about to drastically change. For a moment he almost felt a smidgen of sympathy, after all, he’d developed genuine affection for the Sunnydale gang and in particular, for the Red Witch. But alas, he had a job to do and after this one, his stock will rise considerably. Besides, perhaps she’ll find her way in this new destiny.


	2. Chapter 2

_New Beginnings..._

Willow began to rouse from a deep, troubled sleep because she was shivering from the cold. Without opening her eyes, hoping to continue sleeping, she felt around for the heavy quilt she slept with--which helped since she decided to sleep sky-clad. However, her fingers met with cold skin and a brisk breeze. After a few moments of searching for warmth and finding none, Willow finally registered the other sensations; instead of her soft, warm bed, it was hard and cold, with a few pebble-like objects digging into her skin. There also appeared to be cool mist of dampness along her skin. But it was the glaring noise of a siren, followed by a scream that jarred her to full wakefulness. And that’s when things started to get a little crazy.

Willow found herself, naked, in an alleyway, if the stench of spoiled food or a dead rat nearby was any indication. She squeaked, her hands immediately trying to cover her private parts, with little success, as she wildly looked around her new surroundings.

“What the fu--,” Willow rarely gave into the need to curse, but she thought given the situation, she was allowed this lapse.

She was cold and wet and her circumstances didn’t seem to be getting any better. Especially as she heard running footsteps that seemed to be getting louder, which meant they were heading her way. She desperately looked around for a place to hide and could only find discarded cardboard boxes, next to a dumpster. Quickly, Willow grabbed the cardboard, and began manipulating the cardboard; righting bending, twisting itself, until she managed to build somewhat of  a wall around her, as she crouched down just in time for the footsteps to round the corner into her alley.

Astonishingly, it was some kind of small, cat-like creature, smooth and skinless, its skin the color of pure ash, only it had wings, and it was being chased by what appeared to be these hulking humans. But the growls and an occasional bark, belayed the idea that they were fully human. One figure followed, languidly walking, moving with inhuman grace, the fangs peeking out from his lips indicated a vampire.

The cat-like creature was letting out little mewls of terror as it ran for its life, only to be stopped by the dead-end. Willow hated to see defenseless creatures bullied or terrorized and not knowing where she was, or how her kind of magic would react, she momentarily felt impotent. But since she was otherwise defenseless she might as well find out how her magic reacted to this world. The hulking figures crowded around the creature; clearly they were waiting for the slighter male vampire to join in on the ‘festivities.’ Willow began wracking her brain for a suitable spell that wasn’t too powerful. 

With nostrils flaring, they picked up the foreign human scent nearby, causing the intimidating trio to turn towards where Willow was barely hiding. When Willow saw them looking at her, she gave another internal curse, remembering that vampires and weres had powerful olfactory senses. Nevertheless, momentarily forgetting that she was naked, with fear, and yet a Scooby sense of justice, she stood.

Immediately, the men began to leer at the naked female, the undead vampire began moving towards her, pumping out pheromones, his pupils fully black as he tried to bespell her. But Willow was no ordinary human, not even an ordinary witch, as he was about to unpleasantly find out. When her hair began to move and shift as if an invisible wind was flowing through it, black bleeding into red hair starting at the ends, until the brightness was bled out by jet-black strands, barely resembling the woman that seconds before stood before him. It startled him enough that he paused, so that he was even more surprised when her hair began to change color once again, turning completely white. But by then the dumpster which had been helping to keep her propped up moved as if it were light as a feather and was thrown at the two hulking weres, crushing them underneath.

Now he hadn’t been the smartest as a living vampire, that hadn’t changed as an undead vamp. But even he realized that he needed to… neutralize the situation quickly. He thought she might be a witch, but there was no smell of Redwood, or other smells normally associated with a spell of some kind. It was when her eyes turned completely onyx as she raised her hands that he began to move. She was spelling; chances are the results wouldn’t be good for him.

He flew with vampiric speed across the distance between, only to be stopped cold; he couldn’t move, some invisible force gripped him up and held him tight. It was the hint of burnt amber, along with… the strong smell of earth that clued him in that she might be above his… usual suspects. Demon? But before he could finish speculating a thick cable began wrapping around both of his ankles, tightly bounding his legs together, almost toppling him except the invisible force keeping him upright and still. He snarled at the red-head in fury, a loud growl rumbled forth from his chest; he was in full predator mode.

But other than a slight flinch, the red-head’s now fully onyx gaze narrowed dangerously, and her lips began to move again, incanting. “If there’s one thing that still holds true no matter where I end up; I’ve always hated bullies.”

And then she quickly pressed her palms into his chest. What followed were a series of painful shrieks, even screams as the magical fire lit up from inside where her palms touched his chest. Due to his inability to move, he couldn’t even physically attack. So he desperately tried to use his pheromones, only the hear her exclaim as she scrunched up her nose, “What is that smell?!”

But by then the fire had spread through his entire torso, leaching into the tops of thighs, causing extreme agony. Instead he could only stare at the red-head, feeling his second death quickly approaching; wishing he’d joined Cormel’s camarilla when he had the chance. “Wh-who are y--,” but by the then his heart burst, along with his other vital organs, killing him, his inky-black eyes becoming silvered in true death.

The silence was deafening, accentuating the pants coming from Willow, as she almost collapsed in a weird mix of exhaustion and exhilaration, plus adrenaline. The creature that thought its life was coming to an end cautiously approached the Being that saved her.

 It lightly hopped and landed near Willow, near the partially-ashed, now twice-dead vampire. The female young gargoyle, her tiny wings quivering in nervousness, big liquid eyes stared in awe at the red-head. “A-are you all right?”

With a weary smile, Willow thought the creature was adorable! If she didn’t know any better, she’d swear it was gargoyle. “Yeah. Are you?”

It slightly hopped even closer, seeing with her ‘second-sight’ the powerful swirl of an unusual mix of magic. “Yes, you saved me. Thank you!” But then her eyes turned sad as it remembered how her Mother had been killed two weeks ago. “My name is Lark.”

“Well Lark, my name is Willow and no problem.” When she felt… stable enough, even with the weird mix of energy running through her, she stepped around the body, and stooped down near Lark. “Why were they after you?”

Lark’s ears drooped; her eyes fell to the ground as grief swept over her. “There were rumors that black witches were collecting gargoyles for something. But they needed our stone skin.” She paused, to lift her webbed fingers to brush away a tear. “They got my mom two weeks ago and I’ve been on the run from them since.”

Willow’s now her normal, green eyes filled with sympathy as she lifted her own hand to gently pat the gargoyle’s head, feeling the smooth, warm, slightly leathery skin. Willow almost gasped as she felt a current of magic running through Lark. The gargoyle scooted even closer, wrapping her tail around Willow’s ankle, reveling in the feeling of safety and compassion from the witch. “I’m so sorry Lark.”

But then Willow did gasp as she felt a huge current of magic coming from the ground into her. Her other hand pressed against her sternum, trying to contain her own magic as it reacted to this new source. Being a gargoyle, Lark was able to sense ley lines a lot easier than most Inerlanders and knew that this was what Willow was experiencing. What amazed her was that the energy seemed to be involuntarily siphoned into the red-head. Usually those competent with ley line magic needed to actively ‘tap’ into it, otherwise nasty unintended consequences happened.

Her hair began to dance again, an invisible wind curling through it, and once again like her hair, her eyes bled completely onyx, before going completely white, and then back to her natural grass-green color, along with silky red locks. When it was all said and done, Willow almost collapsed from the magic overload, spells she’d never encountered before curling under skin for later use. She didn’t even realize that she’d fallen to the ground, Lark concernedly curled around her protectively, even though she could sniff the slight demonic, burnt amber to some of the smells.

For some reason, perhaps because Willow saved her life, Lark trusted her. Panting, Willow returned to full consciousness, her surroundings, realizing that she was once again on the cold, wet, no doubt, dirty ground. But the warmth against her side, seeing Lark’s head resting on her hip, made her thankful that her gargoyle friend didn’t leave her.

“Thank you for not leaving me. But you should know I…,” she swallowed, needing the moisture for her extra-dry mouth, “I tend to attract trouble.” She lifted her shaky hand to rest it on Lark’s head, lightly scratching affectionately, eliciting a purr. “But I think I could use your help and I’ll do everything to protect you.”

At that, Lark possessively curled herself even more around Willow. They would watch out for each other. Perhaps the red-head was alone like her. “Ok. But… why are you naked?”


	3. Chapter 3

_Watching her Step_

After having stolen the too-big clothes from the dead vampire, using magic to shrink them to fit, even though they smelled like ashes and blood. She did like the leather pants and three-quarter length jacket; they finally made their way out of the alley. Lark reminded her that others may be looking for their now dead friends. Not to mention, Willow was becoming very cold. Luckily the vamp had a thick wad of cash, with a gold money clip, that he’d no longer need. In the meantime, Willow learned that she was in Cincinnati, that she’d be considered an Inerlander, as opposed to human. She was also told about an area called The Hollows which is where Inerlanders lived and where they currently were.

They found an abandoned warehouse, which Willow used a bit of magic to clean and provide some light. Lark spent some time to investigate for secure places for her perch during her stone-sleep, like the roof, while Willow continued investigating the rest of the warehouse. Aside from some suspicious looking substances, such as dried blood, an occasional rodent or five, some water damage, and a couple holes that looked as if either some tried to drive through the brick wall or threw something very big through it, with some work, (and magic) it could suit her purposes. The beams could provide a decent nesting place for Lark, particularly since she might not be safe outside if some group was hunting her kind.

After that was a plan on how to get the essentials: food, clothes, and a computer. When Lark flew back to where Willow was currently casting a spell to place brick and mortar back into its original place, patching in one of the huge holes. “So, I think once I patch in the holes, we’ll need to find a way make this a livable space. I also think you should perch up on one of the beams during your sleep.” She pointed towards the beamed-ceiling, “That way I can protect you if anyone tries anything. They shouldn’t once I’ve placed wards around the building.”

“Wow, you’re a powerful witch. And your aura… it’s so… fascinating.” But then her face showed confusion. “But you don’t… smell like a witch. They all have a scent of Redwood on them.”

Willow’s face showed a confusion of her own. “Redwood? Like the tree?”

“You know… I don’t know. But every witch has the scent of Redwood, they use it for spells.” When the red-head still looked confused, Lark decided that the best thing for her new friend would be to introduce her to the University of Cincinnati’s library. “Ummm, I think we need to make a trip to the University’s library.” She might be a youngling, but everyone knew that the University’s library had an entire section on Inerlanders.

Suddenly Willow’s weary and confused expression tensed up, practically quivering with excitement, almost startling Lark. “Library?! I love libraries. Let me finish placing this final ward and we can head out.”

****

 _Riding the bus in this new world was an interesting experience, to say the least_ , thought Willow. There was the fact that Willow as almost certain she was sitting across from someone who clearly enjoyed being a ‘chew-toy’ for vampires, if the scar tissue along his neck was any indication. Along with another smoothly-pale vampire, which according to Lark, who was tucked comfortably in her giant magically-conjured shoulder-bag, was a living vampire. He’d been flashing sly grins, showing glimpses of his small fangs for his amusement every time she snuck a look in his direction. He probably thought she was fully human. Apparently being a living vamp was a huge difference from the vampire she killed earlier this evening; living vampires had souls, and while still stronger and faster than humans, and still needed blood, they could eat food, could venture into the sunlight, and venture onto sanctified grounds. Whereas undead vampires were much stronger than living vampires, lived on blood, and had no soul. And most importantly, living vampires became undead vampires upon their First Death.

There were other interesting facts that Lark quickly ran through that only confused Willow, so she added them to her mental checklist of items she needed to research. Most important, was researching The Turn and the Angel Virus which ultimately changed to very fabric of this society, killing a quarter of the human population, and where suddenly humans had to share their placement in the hierarchal food-chain, with other more powerful Beings. There was also something about tomatoes. She also learned that along with vampires, weres, witches, and gargoyles, there were also pixies, faeries, trolls, and demons. in addition there were rumors about supposedly extinct elves. Willow had met more than a few versions mentioned on the list of Inderlander species, and Willow knew a lot about demons. However, she was about to find out that her version of a demon was a tad different than the one looking for her now.

Then there was the magic. Apparently there were four major kinds of magic. Ley line, earth, wild, and demonic magic; all of which effects a Being’s aura in either negative or benign ways. Lark believed that Willow used earth, with a hint of wild magic, and perhaps some demonic. With a look of resignation and regret, Willow knew about the Darkness inside her, it was something she struggled with everyday. She promised Lark a ‘story’ when they returned to their warehouse.

They’d just crossed the bridge heading into downtown Cincinnati. Their first stop would be an internet café; as much as Willow hated to do this, she was going to have to hack into a bank to acquire additional funds, mentally promising to return them at some point. Chances are she might already have an identity, if her experience with alternate-reality-jumping was any indication. If not, she’ll create one, if so, she’ll create a new identity and hope she didn’t exist anywhere near by or that she was a witch. Plus it’ll help her get started on researching this world before she really dove into a library archives. Afterwards, they’ll need a cell phone, make arrangements for construction workers to come to the warehouse, arrange to have a bed, a mini-fridge, and of course, buy a laptop. After that will be a stop at an army/navy store to buy some basic clothes, knives, and any other items they might need. Willow had been trained by the best in hand-to-hand combat; not only from Slayers, but the occasional training programs with various Special Forces and specialists around her former world, compliments of the work they did for governments.

Just because she’d been one of the most powerful witches in the world, didn’t mean that she’d only rely on  magic for every circumstance. The katana was Willow’s favorite weapon and she wished she’d been able to bring hers, specially-made by a warrior-demon in Taiwan. One thing she’d learned that a name doesn’t always indicate badness. The warrior-demon in question had been a warlord over the once fairly benign supernatural community that had suddenly become unstable due to an ambitious and truly evil warlock, and it had started to spill over onto the human population.

So they were able to squash the problem and at the same time, create a cautious ally within the demon community. Not to mention he seemed to have a crush on Willow, which caused her no amount of amusement at her expense from the Scoobies. She suddenly, with aching intensity missed her family and friends – the Scoobies were her family, her parents had become a non-issue a long time ago. Finally they reached their destination; Willow loved the fact that many businesses, even on the mostly-human side, ran “opposite hours” at night to accommodate Inerlanders, whom slept during the day.

The café was busy; the tantalizing smells of coffee and food reminded her stomach that she hadn’t eaten in a while, if the embarrassing growl rumbling forth was any indication. A perky young woman, who smelled… earthy(?), with pink hair stood behind the counter. “Hey! You kinda look like that chick…Rachel Morgan. Anyone ever tell you that?”

Willow barely restrained herself from rolling her eyes at the perky young woman. “Ahh, no.”

“Oh, ok. Well, what can I get ya?”

After ordering a roast beef and cheese Panini, along with a mocha (with extra chocolate –she deserved it for surviving reality-jumping), and a coffeecake muffin for Lark, plus some time on a computer, she made her way to the only available computer closest to a wall. Using magic and her expert hacking skills, she was able to complete several pressing items on her To-Do list. Lark lay curled up in her lap like a cat, after she ate her pastry while Willow went about her business. The red-head was like a warm electric current as the magic hummed through the ley line and earth, up through Lark and Willow and back into Lark. She’d never heard of a witch who was capable of using ley lines so effortlessly. What was even more unusual was that Willow seemed unaware she was using it.

As a gargoyle, her species was basically a conduit for ley line energy, whereas species like witches can tap into it through them. Needless to say Lark began to have a sniggling suspicion that Willow was going to be a very special person in a world filled with special Beings. She’d heard about Rachel Morgan; in fact, she’d been hoping to seek her help before she ran into Willow. Her reputation as a witch was that she was friends with lots of different species;, who also lived with pixies, the most famous living vampire in Cincinnati, Ivy Tamwood, and even a gargoyle. Not many Inerlanders engaged in inter-species co-habitation; particularly since there was a small war between camarillas ever since the master vampire Piscary was killed, with many species choosing sides, leaving a vacuum of power. So Lark thought she was a somewhat lucky gargoyle in finding Willow.

Meanwhile Willow struggled to not get overwhelmed with information overload. She found this world to be rather… fascinating! She was already making a list of things she’d like to research further. She also found out who owned their warehouse and subsequently “bought” it. Luckily there was no Willow Rosenburg, so she was able to fashion an identity, create tax records, a hefty bank account – compliments of several newly twice dead vampires, spreading it over several accounts, including an account that had been tied up in escrow collecting interest after The Turn. So now, Willow was now a woman of some financial means.

She also researched the ‘players’ of this new world, with helpful tidbits from her gargoyle friend. Piscary sounded like some of the Big-Bads they had to deal with; before and after the Sunnydale Battle. After printing out all the information she needed. Their next stop was the mall where she learned about a store dedicated to all things anyone practicing magic (or their version of ‘legal’ magic) could need.  After working out arrangements for deliveries and picking some clothing items, food, a really cool bowie hunting knife, they headed back towards the Hollows, equipped with her ever-expanding awareness of the new world around her.

Two weeks later, with a fresh scent of sawdust, coat of paint, and polish, Willow and Lark now had a very nice and functional living space. The floors had been converted into hard-wood floors, complete with a huge open-space kitchen; Lark insisted that she have it sectioned - one for cooking food and the other for preparing spells. An office complete with the necessary computing equipment for someone of Willow’s capability. Large windows that allowed for lots of light, but also were equipped with a high-tech shuttering system to block out the light in consideration for any potential undead guests they might have. They constructed a second-level for three bedrooms and two full baths. Lark had also convinced her to have them build a small greenhouse somewhere and hope a family of pixies will find its way there to help maintain a very useful herb, flower, and vegetable garden (necessary for any spell-casting witch). Otherwise, buying herbs or certain rare flowers could get expensive. This was built on top of their warehouse. Seeing that it was mostly flat, it was somewhat easy to install.

Finally there was also another room specifically used for all things magic and supernatural; one wall consisted of a fast-growing library of books for not only magic, historical volumes that provided extensive information regarding The Turn and the T4 Angel Virus. There were several books regarding various species she’d either already ran into or should prepare for in case she ran into them: i.e. master vampires, black witches, and demons. But what had her really fascinated was this thing called the Ever-After. For some reason her curiosity in this known dimension kept growing.

When she fell asleep; images kept dancing in her head, causing her a restless sleep as images of winged creatures, blood and war, other creatures with goat-like eyes. But by the time she awoke or startled awake she’d forget what she’d dreamt about. What she didn’t know was that she’d been speaking ancient, dead languages, like Latin, celestial languages, sometimes her words were strung together in a melodious yet rhythmic cadence; as if she were incanting something. The most unusual result of all this is that occasionally she’d awaken with the smell of burnt amber, as Lark exclaimed early one evening.

“Willow! Did you summon a demon?!” Her ears laid back in fear, her big eyes darting all over their newly renovated home, watching the shadows for the dreaded creatures.

Startled, Willow frowned. “What?! No, absolutely not!” The red-head quickly looked around trying to see whatever it was that frightened Lark. “Why?”

Flying a little until she was eye-level with Willow, Lark responded. “Don’t you smell the burnt amber? There’s only one place that smell comes from – the Ever-After.”

Paling slightly, Willow immediately sifted through her mental rolodex for her detection spell. She knew she was unusual because it appeared as though her magic was a combination of various magic, which should be impossible. Only Inerlanders with demon DNA could invoke demon magic and apparently only elves (whom were supposedly extinct—but Willow could feel the presence of elf-magic in the Hollows) and witches. But apparently most witches lost this ability to do so a long time ago; all except for Rachel Morgan.

Interesting enough, when Willow casted her detection spell a weird blackish-gray film curled and floated about the room, like smoke from a cigarette. This alerted Willow because she believed it might be Ever-After smut, which would be an indication of something having found its way here. At this, Willow spent the rest of the evening doing cleansing spells and researching services that could sanctify her new home, as suggested by Lark.

However her musings were cut short by a series of buzzing sounds sounding near one of the large windows, followed by a ‘thump,’ as if something hit the glass. Rushing over, yet preparing a defensive spell if needed, what she saw astonished her, even though she’d seen pictures of the species during her research of this new world. A small peter-pan sized creature appeared. But she looked more like a faerie princess in her pale yellow dress. At the moment the small creature was scrabbling at the glass, as if frantically trying to get in.

So Willow decided to try to use a ley line instead of her usual earth magic to quickly transport the little creature inside. The strong smell of earth and the burnt amber began to fill the space around her. Needless to say, the magic was very… _different_. Like some kind of vaporous, tingling current, icy-cold to hot, filled her, pain curled into her limbs, making her heart race, her pulse throb, filling her like water filling a balloon. She could barely breathe for a moment until she could. And then the magic rushed out like air from a tire – but only because Willow had become a master at controlling magical currents. Well that, and the fact that the spell was a small, simple one. The red-head suspected that if it’d been major magic the release would be… a spectacle and no telling what effects it would have on her from the feedback.

Magic, even in her world was give and take; one simply didn’t manipulate physics and the elements without expecting to pay both in small ways and big, for it. This dimension seemed to require a literal translation of that payment. Hence the reason why Willow was filling her new library with magical tomes; she needed to become as expert in these new ‘laws’ if ever she figured out what her new role in this world would be


	4. Chapter 4

However, her musings were interrupted when the creature was teleported into the warehouse, onto the one of the tables near her kitchen. Her grass-green eyes widened at the creature now lying prone on her table. She wished Lark was here instead of out hunting for food. Dipping her head closer, she noticed that at the moment the creature appeared unconscious; Willow guessed that the torn clothing and random smattering of blood probably had something to do with Its condition. Humanoid, dark hair that fell around Its shoulders, but stood around four-inches tall, wore clothing that appeared straight out of a pirate movie, and had beautiful, but broken wings the color of pale-pink.

If Willow didn’t know better she’d swear that Peter Pan just showed up injured and bleeding in her home! She decided to grab some water and bandages, and something to cover it. Suddenly it groaned, its head slowly moved while one tiny hand reached up to its brow. Willow was slightly startled when it abruptly opened its eyes and screamed when she saw Willow staring down at her, letting out a small **_squeak_** in return, before blushing.

A musical voice rang out, as she tried to stand. “Who are you?! What have you done with me?!”

Willow pointed to herself. “Me?! I haven’t done anything to you!” She redirected her guest’s attention towards her window. “You kinda ran into my window.” The red-head held up her hands in a placating gesture. “You’re injured. I was just gonna get some water, bandages, and something blanket-like to make you more comfortable.”

But Willow grew even more concerned when those big-blue eyes started to water. Her guest furiously wiped away her tears, hating to look even weaker. Willow stooped down slightly to bring herself level with her guest. “I don’t mean you any harm. My name is Willow and this is my home.”

At that the creature began crying in earnest. Horrified, Willow quickly searched for some tissues, breaking off pieces of it to a more tiny-person level. “What happened?” Being a Sunnydale survivor, Willow didn’t ask obvious questions like “are you all right” when someone obviously wasn’t.

Sniffling, the creature tried to gain control of herself. “M-my name is Einin. And my entire…,” she was once again overcome with grief, momentarily unable to continue.

Wanting physically comfort her, Willow simply laid her hand down, palm up, allowing the tiny female to curl her arms around her thumb so that she could snuggle into the digit, as the sobs shook her tiny frame. Using her earth magic again, Willow coaxed Einin into her palm, and then slowly waved her hand over her shuddering frame, warmth accompanied by what felt like miniscule electric shock seeped into every wound, coated every bruise or strain, until Einin was completely injury-free.

At that, Einin was surprised enough to somehow gain some semblance of control. Hiccupping and sniffling, Einin sat up in Willow’s palm, staring up with big sad eyes. “You-you’re a witch?!”

Gently smiling, Willow nodded. “Yes. Is that a problem?”

Earnestly shaking her head, Einin was too weary and grief-stricken to be concerned. Even if she should be. “Oh no. Unless you’re a black witch.”

Willow chuckled. “Not yet.”

Einin shifted to her knees and her tiny hands tightened their hold of Willow’s thumb. “Miss Willow, you mustn’t joke about that. Bad things happen to black witches. Especially if the Coven of Ethical and Moral Standards catches wind.”

Willow snickered, wondering how they came up with such a self-inflated name for a coven. “Wow, that’s a mouthful.” Still gently carrying Einin, she walked over towards her kitchen, preparing some tea for herself, and asking her ‘guest’ if she’d like something as well. Her eyebrow lifted in surprise when Einin pointed towards the bowl of Skittles sitting on the counter. “You sure you should be eating that before dinner…,”

When confusion met her lame attempt at a small joke, she went on to explain, “A joke, obviously a bad one.” She frowned, remembering something. “Umm... what are you? A faerie?”

An enraged hiss met that inquiry. “A faerie?! The Turn take them, I’m a pixie! They’re the ones who killed my family! I plan to soak my new garden with their blood!”

Wide green eyes filled with consternation as she immediately backpedaled her unintentional insult. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I-I’m still learning things around here…” She trailed off as longing for her friends suddenly curdled in her throat, a lump forming in her throat. “Anyways, can you tell me what happened?”

When Einin’s big blue eyes began to water, Willow hastily added, “But only if you want to.”

“The Turn take it, we had worked a beautiful garden. It wasn’t big, but it was lush. And my youngest sister, Eurelle, had just planted her first seedling, when one of those beetle-dung bugs stole into our territory. When my Da and my brother, Eamon were attacked by one of them, the rest of my family were coming in from one-side as back-up, when suddenly we were descended upon by a swarm of them.” She paused, the grief becoming fresh and excruciating, and when she could breathe again she continued. “There were too many. I tried, but I couldn’t…” and with that, Einin cupped her hands over her face as she sobbed.

Willow tenderly and delicately stroked her finger along Einin’s wing. They quivered blue, raining down blue-colored sparkles, indicating her anguish. From what Willow remembered from her research on the various Inerlander species, pixies lived in gardens, needing nectar to survive.  “Well, consider this your new home. I’ve just installed a new garden on the roof; I’d be honored if you could help me tend to it. And our first order of business is to find something to plant to honor your family.”

Sniffling, the grief receded from her eyes to be replaced by wonder. She slowly flew to eye-level with Willow. “Really, you’re giving me a garden?” An offer of secure territory and steady food just extended her short lifespan.

“Well why not? I can’t tend to it nearly as well as a pixy and plus I have lots of researchy things to do, so I’ll be a little busy.” Hearing a noise near the roof, passing her wards, Willow guessed it was Lark returning from her hunt. “Oh, and I have a gargoyle living here too. Her name is Lark. She’s a youngling.” Cocking her head slightly she listened for Lark’s heavy wings. “I think that’s her now. Why don’t we head up to greet her and I can show you the garden at the same time?”

Einin flew up to Willow’s shoulder, her tiny frame heavier than Willow thought, as they bounded up the stairs. She paused as they came to the second floor. “Ah, this is where all the bedrooms are.”  They continued up towards a steel door which was propped slightly open so that Lark could enter the warehouse when she completed her night out. The night was fairly cool, making Willow glad that she’d worn a long sleeved t-shirt and jeans. The smell from the Ohio River while not the best, it did provide a pretty nice view of the _other_ part of Cincinnati, where the humans lived.  Plus Willow enjoyed being near the water – except the Ganges River. She did not enjoy that! She’d spent some time in India, visiting with a sorceress-demon, learning to control her ever-evolving magic. As she came to her flat roof, Willow made a mental note to buy some outdoor furniture at some point.  A few feet over was the newly built green-house and given the story that Einin shared, she was glad the contractor convinced her to not only incant additional security wards, but to also install a human security system.

She punched in the code on the designated keypad: the day Sunnydale collapsed.

“Wow, Miss Willow! I’ve never been in an inside-garden.”

Four long rectangular rows, filled with mulch took up the majority of the room. Overhead was an installed sprinkler-system, fans, high-tech solar heating and cooling systems, and security cameras in various locations. She made another mental note to teach Einin how to function all the various gadgets and security code. Once again, Willow heard sniffling, but this time near her ear.

“Oh, Miss Willow, I can’t thank you enough! You’ve saved this pixy’s life.”

“Well I think we’re all a little lost right now and having someone to watch out for you is important. So you’re helping me as much as you think I’m helping you. We’re friends.”

The sound of heavy wings made a noise near the door. It was Lark. Willow made introductions; the gargoyle immediately declared that Einin was now a part of their Clan. _A Clan, huh?_ _Well, worse things could’ve happened_ , thought Willow. For now, Willow was learning to like her new existence; it allowed her to really focus on controlling her evolving magic. But more importantly, this new existence allowed her to feel… like she was meant to be here, like she belonged, and that she needn’t be ashamed of magic because it **was** an intrinsic part of her. And while she suspected that she had yet to understand of the give and take nature of magic in this new world, she was more than ready for the challenge, as well as the consequences. 


	5. Chapter 5

Celestial Plotting

However forces beyond Willow were already in play; the magic already had  consequences, starting with her slightly altered physical appearance upon arriving in the alternate dimension; she’ll eventually notice that she’d grown a couple inches and that the already firm musculature in her arms, legs, shoulders, and stomach became slightly pronounced. And her hair which had grown past her shoulders, instead of flowing through the usual colors of red, black, white, and then back to red, simply bled out the tinge of copper to become slightly deeper, darker, until it fell into a lustrous red sheen, the color of cranberries. 

But the most important consequence was the ‘ping’ she registered on someone who’d been waiting for her. Someone, or something, ancient and powerful. Someone who in a moment of lucidity, **remembered**. Lucky for her, Minias was away somewhere else at the moment, allowing her the moment to see. Long ago, Newt had made a… mistake. The female’s hair was so shiny and beautiful and she’d been the first of her kind to come across something like Her. What followed should have been impossible, but Newt had been making ‘the laws’ for eons now. She first tried to enslave Her, test a spell or two, but She turned out to be more than clever enough to be evasive. But like a predator scenting a worthy bitch, She mounted her in a moment of lust with a spell so powerful that neither of them would leave this plane without being able to finish it.

Her wings spread like a huge down-covered-steel, encased Newt, focusing her, making her feel something more than confusion, madness, and despair. **She** was a female, Newt was a female, but like all demons she could Shift into thousands of possibilities, while the red-headed angel could only borrow. Anafiel had been a general until she slightly fell from grace. But instead of simply falling to the ground, she fell elsewhere, and chose to stay hidden away from her brothers and sisters. She shone so, so brightly, heating up Newt from the inside.

Their mating was violent, it shook worlds, it created tsunamis, quakes, and it cracked open the ground, sending up bottom-dwelling creatures that Newt could use for target practice if she were so inclined. In other places it re-set populations. It was great and powerful magic; elemental, earth, demonic, and ley line combined, and the result was a gift. A gift that should have never happened and if certain forces knew this gift existed, would stop at nothing to either destroy It or possess It. So in order to protect this precious gift Anafiel had to convince Newt that she must erase this stalled moment in time; their meeting, Newt hunting Anafiel, Anafiel hunting Newt, and then Newt ‘catching’ her. Their intensely mystical, wholly magical, and pre-destined Mating: a game of Dominance and Submission that would have killed most Beings. And most important of all: the result of that Mating, a child. It was if a chunk of time itself went missing.

As a result of the spell, Newt went a little crazy; she knew she was missing something, something very important to her. Thinking that Others took this… _something_ , she began to kill her own kind, particularly Other female demons, which added to her detachment from reality. As for Anafiel, she left to fight yet another war; certain factions of her Family wanted to do another **_Cleansing_** , allowing for her most infamous brother, **the** fallen angel to bring forth an apocalypse in order to fight Michael. Meanwhile, having caught wind that Anafiel may have disobeyed in a way so profound, sought to bring her for punishment, eradicating the child from her memory, perhaps even liquidate both of them, even if they’d planned to eradicating the abomination. They were only partially successful before a friend of Anafiel provided an escape for the child.

But then a different dimension of celestial powers began get greedy or bored – both terrible combinations for their earthly subjects. Added to this, a split was found, separating realities and governing celestial bodies. Unfortunately the first to stumble on this split was a representative from Wolfram & Hart. Anafiel made a deal. And so a baby was born in Sunnydale Memorial Hospital. Parents: unknown, and since Ira and Sheila Rosenberg wanted a child, yet not really needing a child, they adopted a tiny, red-head little girl. Many years later when the world trembled beneath Willow’s feet as rage and grief gripped her tight, a dark-haired boy held up a yellow crayon.

Unknowingly, both Anafiel and Newt experienced a moment of grief and rage, allowing Anafiel to kill several of Raphael’s angels, while Newt escaped from her velvet prison and went on another killing spree, at least until Minias re-captured her, siphoning out the rage and sadness, while erasing the moment from her strained mind. Both females were unable to understand where those sensations came from. However, that represented the first chink in missing time. Of course, this only appealed to the members of Wolfram and Hart, especially as Willow continued to gain in power, causing severe losses. Luckily for them, the Powers-that-Be also agreed that the red-head had grown too powerful, upsetting the already strained balance.

After some discussion it was concluded that Willow must return to the world from whence the womb she took shape in. It was the balance demon named Whistler, who’d grown a soft spot for the Sunnydale crew, that convinced them to allow Willow to keep her powers and let her evolve in the new world. Plus as an f-you to his Masters, he also took a huge chunk out of the mighty celestial time-eradication spell. _After all he figured she deserved a fighting chance to find her family_ , he thought with a twisted sort of humor. 

**

It was Anafiel who remembered first; mostly because she was generally sane. The Angel raged at the skies above and below, struck her mighty fists, and her huge, celestial weapon, a sword against an invisible wall; inadvertently creating another split, but this time into Newt’s world. Her cries of rage and anguish echoed throughout the Ever-After, causing the bottom-dwellers to quiver in fear, while the higher-level demons wondered who or what was being tortured. For the Newt the reaction was entirely different.

Like a predator scenting a sudden change in the wind, Newt stilled, causing her to stop mixing whatever spell had recently darted through her mind. Suddenly a vision of a pale female, naked, sitting atop of the demon’s thighs, her copper-red strands tickling against her thighs as her head tipped back, her body arched, undulating in pleasure-pain, an impressive set of wings fully unfurled behind her. But like water falling through her hands, the vision disappeared, causing a frown to appear upon Newt’s smooth features.  However it was the scent of _something_ … something familiar, calling on things inside Newt’s warped mind she’d thought long lost.

As if on auto-pilot, the demon went into her kitchen, making a motion with her hand, green magical fire lit underneath the spelling pot. Newt began chopping, pressing, mixing herbs until she had what she needed. She then added the ingredients in a certain order, with a certain timing, all the while incanting an ancient language of sounds barely recognizable. Once completed, her hands danced on the air, the scent of burnt amber, earth, and various herbs filled the room, yet she continued to incant, her fingers weaving complex patterns in the air. And when she finished an intricate spell was given birth. An indicator, almost like a beacon spell, locating that… _something_ so important that it calls forth moments of lucidity and memories thought long forgotten. And creating worry for Minias. 

**

Anafiel searched and searched until she found him. Her long, lost brother, Gabriel. She found him in an empty movie theatre, eating freshly-popped popcorn, flanked by two beautiful, scantily clad women. When he saw her, his eyes lit up. “Well, well, well. If isn’t my dear sister, Ana.” He tipped the bowl of popcorn towards her. “Care for some? It’s freshly popped and loaded with butter.”

Rolling her eyes, she snapped her fingers, and the two women were gone. “I need to talk to you.”

“Hey! Those were my friends.” But he didn’t really care; after all he could easily retrieve them. Plus he’d rather chat with his recalcitrant sister; find out what she had up her sleeve, particularly if it’d piss off their two “golden” brothers. “So. What brings you to my neck of the woods? Michael still looking for you?”

Sighing, Ana wondered how to go about asking Gabriel for his help without having to play his games, or attempts at chit-chat, as the humans called it. “I need your help.”

Sipping some of his Slurpy, an eyebrow raised in mild surprise. “Well this is interesting. I can’t imagine how you think I can help you.” He took another sip. “And more importantly, why would I?”

“Gabriel, Gabriel. You’ve made yourself quite a life here.” She motioned around the room, “Why wouldn’t I want the same? I mean, nothing like sticking it to big brother and our absentee father, right?”

“Look Sis, are you gonna get to the point anytime soon? I mean it’s all about keeping my interest. Otherwise I get bored and you know dangerous things happen when I get bored.” He had sniggling suspicion that whatever Ana was here for it was big. And he just knew it’ll piss off Michael – which was always a bonus.

“I need to leave. Here from this dimension.”

“Why because that tool Zachariah is looking for you?! If you can’t avoi-“ he was interrupted.

“No, because I have to find something. Something that was… stolen from me,” she earnestly insisted. Ana simply couldn’t afford to provide too many details.

Like a reporter who knew when an important interview was coming to a juicy detail that needed to be delicately extracted, his body tensed, poised, readying for whatever might be revealed. He switched to his second-sight; the red-head’s aura was blotchy, like something was missing. _Very interesting_ , he thought. “Sweetheart, you’re gonna have to give me more details than that. After all, dimension spells were very difficult and almost impossible to do.”

An icy-cold sensation of fear curled in her stomach. “Are you saying you can’t do it?!”

“Sugar, I said it was difficult, not that I couldn’t do it.” He paused, sitting forward, he suddenly became serious, a hint of his past life as an arch-angel coming through, his dark eyes intent. “Why?”

Ana wanted to shift in nervous energy, not liking her human host’s access to all these complicated emotions. But she knew if she wanted Gabriel’s help, she’d have to tell him something. Running a hand through her thick, red hair, she sighed. “I Mated.”

Silence met that statement. The look of confusion was apparent. “I ‘mate’ all the time, what’s the bi—“ he was cut off again.

“No Gabriel. I mean, I Mated.” At that his jaw dropped.

“Ho-why-what?! Are you crazy?!!”

While using their human hosts, angels could have sex. But in their true form, not only was it prohibited under death, but it was almost impossible unless they’re released by Father. And that has never happened. Think of it as the ultimate Celestial Chastity Lock or the most powerful chastity belt ever. “Do they know yet?”

Shaking her head, she responded, “Not yet. But they will once they capture me. You know that.”

Their celestial bond was powerful and empathic, not to mention siphoning through their memories was done with ease, but it felt like a tear in your soul, making it very painful, permanently damaging her Grace. If done enough times, madness sets in, and then you’re completely erased, you’ll no longer exist: a fate more terrible than anything imaginable.

“Holy shit! Are you nuts?! Do you have any idea what they’ll do to you?!” He threw his hands up and tried to stem his own self-righteous indignation. After all Mating was one of those intrinsic rules every celestial warrior grew up with. While he may be a fan of bucking the system, his own sense of self-preservation was fairly strong enough to know that to help Ana would mean majorly bad things for him.

But he also knew that he had a soft spot for Ana. She was his right-hand, a general within his battalion, and they had fought some legendary battles together. Not to mention she saved his ass more than once. Letting out a huge sigh, Gabriel/Loki thought that the only thing that could cap this already, annoying day would be for the Winchesters to show up.

“Ok, but you’ll have to get everything I ask and most importantly, you must do exactly what I tell you.” In the end, the thought of sticking it to Michael and Zachariah quickened his blood, making his wings quiver. Plus since gaining/borrowing the essence of Loki, the Trickster, he ‘lived’ for a good joke and this may very well be his greatest one yet.

“One more question Little Sis, where am I sending you?”


End file.
